The Worst Part of You
by daiyaonna
Summary: Malik wants to be normal. He desires a life unplagued by the crimes he has committed in the past, but no one is willing to save him. Will Ryou? MR Malikcentric
1. Part One

Disclaimer: Usual stuff…I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!

Warnings: dark themes and yaoi (yep…that includes lemons, too.)

Author's Notes: This, like many of the other things I've written, has been collecting dust bunnies, and my muses urged me to post at least a couple parts to see what people would think. Although this _isn't _my first YGO fic, it's certainly a first in many things…I'm opening myself up here, so please be gentle!

_What it's about_: Malik, of course. I've become increasingly obsessed with him (though Ryou and Bakura are eternally my favorite), and I thought he deserved a fic that wasn't bashing or blatantly all about sex…though I'm partial to pairing him with Ryou for some strange reason. Anyway, not going to say too much more. This is only the beginning, so bare with me if it's too slow. It's actually rather interesting, and my goal is to make you realize what hell Malik went through his entire life…I think.

R&R…and most importantly, enjoy!

THE WORST PART OF YOU

Part One

_Pain seared through his back, over his spine and to the base of his skull, burning harshly as his flesh was scorched away, the smell stinging his eyes and welding into his throat while skinny arms pulled roughly against the leather binds that held them in place. Rope twine dug into his thin, bony wrists, scarping them raw as he tried to escape his **unwanted** fate, and hot tears of anguish slid down his hollow cheeks, splashing onto the dirt floor as the fiery sensation moved over his left shoulder blade and lower towards the tiny dip in his skin. Blood flowed freely down his chin to dribble on his throat, as well as a the ground, from his teeth bursting the soft tissue of his lips, unwilling to cry out no matter how much it hurt._

_Strength was a virtue._

_Silence was a must…_

_A scream ripped from his lungs when the sharp object branding tattoos across him buried beneath the layers of his skin, cauterizing the exposed muscle and fluid welling up within the puncture wound. His teeth ground hard on his tongue, almost biting it in half, and the small boy tilted his head to the side, drowsiness overtaking him even as the pain subsided into an overwhelming darkness._

_"**Aa-perti**…" A dim voice murmured around him, echoing against the thick sandstone blocks of the underground dwelling, almost chanting, in a heavy tone, words that made no sense to his delusional mind. "**Makaoa-kha**…" The resounding whispers faded into a deep buzzing, lulling him into a dreamless sleep plagued by the image of a future that remained elusive._

_He dreamt-_

_- - -_

Blondish-white hair hung limply in his face, stained with blood blacker than the night, and the youth staggered, tripping over his own feet as a sticky hand reached forward, striving for a touch of the real world, something that would prove he still existed in a place of solid objects, only to feel cold, hard ground beneath his trembling fingers as he sunk to the earth, unable to continue on, wishing that he would die.

He had lost all control over the situation.

It was no longer the game of fun and delight he had first thought it to be.

People, those he did not wish it upon, were dying -had died- and he could do nothing to stop it no matter how hard he strove to set things right. He felt weak and demoralized, a boy, hardly a man, caught between a sadistic humanity that wanted him and another that refused to accept what he had become.

His mind throbbed with agony, the imprints of another's hands marking him for masochistic pleasures not his own, and open abrasions on his exposed and rather tanned flesh bled freely, having been improperly attended to.

Scarring memories of those times were recent, minutes recent, but he wanted to forget them…forget them forever.

If it was that easy, he would have cried with relief, but it wasn't.

Nothing ever was…

_"You are my slave! You serve only me! Is that clear, you worthless bitch?!" A sharp slap to his attempted stoic countenance brought on a wave of hard fought-back tears._

_"I…I…"_

_"Say it! I **own** you…I own you, whore…I could easily replace you, but-" There was a dreaded pause, and hands immediately plunged into limp locks of pale ash, ripping his head back so that his neck snapped with an echoing pop. He grimaced and waited for the onslaught. "But…you're too much fun to play with."_

_"N-n-no…please…" Nails drew over his scalp and down his throat, leaving thin, bloody wells._

_"Please? Please what, my slave?" Glistening violet eyes turned away from the amused smirk on the other's face, the face so much like his own and yet…so different._

_"P-please…don't…" Fingers gripped his chin tightly, harshly turning it to force his gaze away from the wall he'd turned towards for refuge._

_"Please what, my slave?" the sultrily addicting voice repeated, and the other could feel himself trembling beneath the scrutiny, fear making his heart beat faster and skin to shine with sweat._

_"Please…DON'T HURT ME-"_

A clap of ricocheting thunder jerked him from the trance with the forcefulness of the beating he'd received for confessing the truth, and tears seeped slowly from his shut eyes as the rain began to fall.

Strength was a virtue he no longer possessed.

The silence no longer was…

He faded away-

- - -

_"Be careful!" The command went unheard, and the young boy of about ten scampered off into the passage of the tomb, chasing after the leather-bound ball that had vanished from sight. "Malik-" A sharp, frightened cry resonated back into intent ears, and the older youth raced into the surrounding darkness, searching for the little body that was his half brother. "Malik?"_

_He could hear crying and then a frightful hiss, one that alerted him to the situation even as he stepped onto the scene._

_"RISHID!" his younger sibling sniffed, glistening tears sliding down his rounded cheeks. "Help me…it hurts!!" Obsidian eyes narrowed in on the petite fingers encasing an even smaller ankle, and Rishid, his loyalty stronger than his fear, walked forward, aware of the Egyptian Cobra coiled near Malik's leg, its tail rattling in warning._

_"It's alright, Malik…stay calm and don't move," he commanded, inching closer to the trembling child who whimpered and gritted his teeth at the throbbing pain as the venom worked its way through him from the bite on his foot. Rishid eased down into a crouch, gathering up his brother, who clung to him tightly as he began to cry even more fiercely than before, and he moved away from the creature that, ironically, understood that they no longer were a threat._

_The leather ball remained where it was as Rishid hurried to tend to the dangerous wound, hoping that he would not die._

_Malik writhed and moaned on the bed, his perfect childhood skin marred with sweat and tears as the poison was drawn out, and he constantly yelled for his older sibling though he never left his side._

_"I thought I told you to watch him?!" Rishid turned to stare at the man standing in the door when his voice shouted from across the room._

_"Sir, I…" Malik's father grabbed him by the collar of his loose gown and threw him against the wall._

_The small boy lying pale in his bed turned onto his back, eyes tightly shut in partial delirium._

_"He is the only male blood in this family, and he must carry on our legacy while we wait for the pharaoh's return. What would you have done if he had died?!" he ranted, shaking Rishid hard enough to knock his head against the sandstone brick of the barrier behind him, and Malik's father continued on before he could answer. "Watch him…if he **does** die…his death will be yours…that's an order!"_

_Then, he was gone, and Rishid sunk to the ground, his hands over his face._

_"B-brother," Malik whispered, his tiny fingers reaching out towards him while large, innocent violet eyes stared at him. "It was my fault…it was-"_

_Rishid was by him in less than a minute._

_"Don't let your father hear you say that!" he chastised although he smiled softly at him. "No matter what happens…from now on, I'll protect you…keep you safe, Master Malik…"_

_"D-do you promise? Really promise, Rishid?"_

_Malik began to cry again._

_"Yes…I will protect you…protect you forever-"_

_But…forever never came._

TBC-

A/N: Yeah…sappy, I know. I'm good at that. Um…some minor things to note:

(1) Yes, Malik's Yami (henceforth referred to as Marik (duh!)) is incredibly mean and sadistic. He enjoys causing pain, and he likes to do it…especially to his "weaker" half…this is my opinion;

(2) Having Rishid as Malik's "brother" increases the dramatic-ness (heh…not a word…) of the situation though he technically isn't related by blood;

(3) Flashbacks are taken from the actual show though the words may be "re-written" to suit my purpose. I'm evil;

(4) Ryou will make an appearance in the next chapter. I absolutely love him, but Malik is definitely growing on me.

Well, tell me what you thought! Loved it? Hated it? Please leave a review! It's gets A LOT better from here on out.

Part One of ??


	2. Part Two

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!  
  
Author's Note: Hurray! Another chapter. I think I'm getting luckier and luckier. :P Anyway, hope this one is okay. It's difficult to know what's going on when I have no definite plot. LOL.  
  
Enjoy!  
  
_Part Two_

"RISHID!"  
  
The quiet moan echoed back into throbbing ears, and Malik Ishtar slowly faded into reality's consciousness, his entire body sore. Even his hair ached with pain. The blood that had caked his skin together was gone, as were his wet clothes, and a figure stood beside him, cloaked in shadows of darkened light. Fingers danced across his skin, igniting the deadened pain into raging flames, and Malik groaned decadently, tossing locks of dampened silvery-gold against the soft surface that cushioned him. The smooth flesh felt relieving on his forehead, almost comforting in a way, and he turned into the touch, sighing contentedly despite the agony running through his body.  
  
"Hush. Everything is well now, little brother." Liquefied violet eyes immediately flashed open and stared directly into a soft feminine face, tendrils of delicate charcoal falling around tanned cheeks.  
  
"I-Isis..." Malik's voice cracked at the mention of his sister's name. "Isis...I want...Rishid..."  
  
Sorrow reflected back at him.  
  
"Oh, Malik...my precious little brother..." Her body's warmth evaporated from his side, and he could feel a placid wetness fading into his skin, making his eyes hurt. "Rishid...Rishid isn't here anymore..."  
  
"What?" He tried to sit up but failed. "Why not? Where's Rishid?!"  
  
"Don't you remember, Malik?"  
  
Malik searched the confines of his memory but only found a foggy darkness enveloping it even as a faint echo of sadistic laughter filled his ears as though it was his own.  
  
"No...no...Isis, get me Rishid. Please! Ask him to see me!" Suddenly, another soft voice drifted into the room, vaguely familiar but otherwise strange.  
  
"Let me watch over him, Isis. I am sure you are exhausted after caring for him all night," someone whispered, and Malik, not wanting to believe Rishid wasn't there, couldn't tell whether it was male or female.  
  
He heard a sigh, the jewelry habitually decorating his sister's neck jingling quietly.  
  
"If you would like. I thank you for taking care of him despite all that he's done."  
  
There was no answer, and Malik knew she had left him.  
  
He shuddered at the loneliness he felt, its destructive essence curling eagerly around his mind, and he dug his blunt fingernails into the flesh of his abdomen, attempting to tear away the pain, but silken hands gripped his, drawing them away from the slightly bleeding scratches.  
  
"That's not healthy for you," the same mysterious voice murmured, and a defined smell of fragrant vanilla drifted over his senses, bringing a mild replica of Nirvana to his jumbled reality. "Calm down..."  
  
"My brother...please...bring him to me," he cried, tightening his hold on the smooth digits encircling his own. "I want to apologize to him...I was-" His rambling was halted by the sudden flip of his stomach churning because of the tender touch abruptly stroking his unbruised cheek.  
  
"I will...I promise I will," the voice replied, instantly knowing what he was trying to explain, fingertips hastily caressing his face. "You've been gone so long...where have you been? What have you been doing since Battle City? Malik?" He could recognize his name and who he was to a certain extent -including his sister- but an overwhelming darkness shrouded the remainder of his sanity, breaking it easily into jagged pieces.  
  
"I don't understand...I've been...I've been...I don't know! I don't know!" Malik wailed over and over, attempting to hide his face with his hands, and he forgot that they were held prisoner, and the alabaster skin he drew to him was illuminated by the slowly rising sun, the rain gone from the night before. The flawless flesh melted against his lips, and a spark of recognition flared to life at the soft purr in his ears but ultimately faded away as quickly as it had come.  
  
"It seems like you do...I've missed you so much!" A lithe body curled around his on the bed -was he on a bed?- and gentle arms held him close, that same exotic smell melding with a fresh baby-powdered aroma to create a haven of warm scents that appeared inevitably familiar. Glistening white hair draped over his aching chest, and Malik finally conceded, his own sun- kissed limbs holding tightly to the embrace this stranger offered as a delicate nose wedged its way beneath his chin, hot breath running a chill down his spine. Was he holding an angel against the empty shell of a souless body and still living? The remembrance of the way he held this unrecognizable person skirted away from him before he could grasp it.  
  
"I...who are you?" A pained sound flooded his consciousness, and large eyes mystically stared up at him, the brightening rays of the sun causing shades of earth to sparkle within their depths.  
  
"You don't..." The beautiful seraph drew away, but he instinctively would not let him go.  
  
"Please-" Malik desperately wanted someone to stay with him, afraid of his own company, and anyone willing enough to do this for him would forever be burned into his grieving heart.  
  
"I'll stay," the other whispered quietly, his melodic voice melting into his ear, and Malik whimpered when delicate fingers combed through his hair, hushing him with the gentle hum of a wordless song that echoed in his subconscious memories. He knew the sound, had heard it before, somewhere in the depths of the dizzying blackness that refused to leave him, but when he tried opening his mouth, his lips fozed, his tongue lethargic against the swell of sounds tangling in his throat. Fingers caressed his cheekbones, traced the path of his eyebrows in one silky slide, and the soothing hymn continued, rocking him in an ocean of smothering comfort that dispersed him from the mortal dreaming life he'd once recognized. His brother would not come, but this alluring creature had, his touch peaceful and sure, and Malik drifted into the blackness of his dreams, eternally uncomforted by the things swallowing him in the dark.  
  
He remembered-  
  
- - -  
  
"What are you staring at?" The words were soft and quiet, placid in the heavy air that rushed past the solitary figures standing on the empty platform of the Kaiba blimp. Large brown eyes blinked in curiostiy as the white-haired youth turned from the railing he was leaning against and stared behind him, wondering. Cream-colored locks ruffled slightly in the breeze, narrowed violet eyes lined in black charcoal thoroughly examining him like he was on display. Bakura Ryou smiled welcomingly.  
  
"Namu..." There was verbal silence. "I...I was looking at the sky. It's very beautiful like this." The other youth approached, darkly tanned fingers taking hold of the metal barrier in front of him.  
  
"Yes," he whispered, his thickly accented voice tender "Very beautiful."  
  
"I like being up here...this high," Ryou continued, grinning slightly. "It's like-"  
  
"Flying?" The other nodded, cheeks blushing a soft pink, and Namu stared at him, orbs of impenitrable purple staring at him.  
  
"W-what?" Namu looked away, the earrings hanging from his lobes swaying gently.  
  
"Nothing. I'm sorry."  
  
"Don't apologize," the smaller youth replied, running fingers through snowy, wind-blown hair. "I thought something might have been wrong."  
  
"No..." They remained quiet, staring out at the setting sun together, and Ryou glanced at the other, entraced by the sleek muscle of his biceps and the slender forearms encased in gold.  
  
"I...where are you from, Namu?" The youth blinked in surprise.  
  
"Me?"  
  
"Yes. None of us know much about you because you aren't from Domino." Namu stared down at the metal floor.  
  
"I...Egypt. My home is there."  
  
"Do you miss it?" Namu sighed, shrugging his shoulders and displacing a rift of hair so that it cascaded down the back of his neck.  
  
"Sometimes...but sometimes..."  
  
"What?" Ryou smiled, pale lips shining in the dulling light.  
  
"Sometimes I hate it." Namu angrily clutched the railing, trying to surpress the anger wellling inside him and onto his face. "It's not a welcoming place...I suggest that you never go there."  
  
"But..." Ryou quickly lowered his head, blushing as tendrils of silver blew around him.  
  
It was the other's turn to prod, though his conscience repeatedly told him not to.  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's your home. You should love your home." Namu stared at the teenage boy gazing down at the wisps of clouds concealing the city below, and his heart wrenched.  
  
His words made sense, were crazy to say.  
  
"It's a place I once lived...not my home." His voice was choked, tumbled from his lips in a snarl, and Ryou glanced up, a smear of red blatantly staining his pale cheeks.  
  
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything." His thin body faced him, innocent and unsure in the disappearing light, and Namu almost reached out, wanting to touch his snowy hair and milky skin. "Please...forgive me."  
  
Ryou bowed, his head level with the exposed, tanned navel of Namu's stomach, and the Egyptian swallowed harshly.  
  
"Don't apologize. It's not...I shouldn't have snapped at you." The other youth immediately straightened, small fingers tugging at the loose blue shirt fluttering against him.  
  
"No, I..." Ryou pinkened more, and Namu smiled.  
  
"It's okay," he insisted, brushing a piece of his hair from his face, causing the bracelet adorning his wrist to jingle. "Your question just surprised me."  
  
"Then...then you...don't like surprises?"  
  
"It depends," he answered, the clank of several feet alerting him to the presence of those he pretended to like.  
  
"Hey, Ryou-" The blonde...  
  
"Ryou!" The Pharaoh's host...  
  
"It was a pleasure speaking with you, but...perhaps another time..." Namu quickly retreated, grateful to escape the mindless chatter surrounding him...hating his sudden departure from the angel gazing sadly after him.  
  
_'I'm sorry...'_  
  
He faded back-  
  
TBC-  
  
A/N: So...bad? Good? Indifferent about the entire thing? Heh...I know Ryou really didn't have much to do in this chapter, but he plays a HUGE roll in the following parts. Go figure. Anyway, ramblings: [1] Malik is suffering from temporary amnesia. Don't blame me...it's just the way things happen. Plus, I wrote it that way for a reason. Heh... [2] Why'd Malik "disappear"? All will be revealed in due time. I actually have ideas XO [3] Sounds (the song) and smells (Ryou...meheh...) are just something to think about. Do they have any real purpse? Well...I know, but you don't. [4] It is a known fact that I don't like Isis, but she obviously cares for her brother. Who would have thought? LOL.  
  
Next chapter: Malik and Ryou talk more; more flashbacks. (Well, I'm just vague, aren't I?)  
  
Please review/comment/email


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